Paradise Found
by filledeneige
Summary: What if John and Kathryn had realized Bay was not their daughter? What if Bay and Daphne had been switched back? What if they were never told? Based on episode nine Paradise Lost.
1. How things could have been

**I do not own Switched at Birth. Sue if you want; I don't even have a job. You won't get anything.**

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><p><strong>John POV<strong>

John looked Kathryn in the eye and said what he had been thinking all day. "She isn't ours. She can't be ours."

He was looking at a sleeping baby with alabaster skin, beautiful doe eyes, and raven colored hair. Gorgeous, but it didn't fit with his wife and son's strawberry blonde hair. His hair was darker, but not _that_ dark.

"My grandmother had some Italian blood, that's where Bay gets her beautiful coloring. She's ours John. She has to be ours," her voice was almost a whisper as she finished.

"Why, Kathryn? Why does she have to be ours?"

His wife looked at him and said in a shaky voice, "Because if she isn't ours, where is our baby? Where is _our_ baby girl?"

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><p>The hospital board had not been at all helpful but once it went to court it came out that the nurse taking care of the Kennish and Vasquez babies had been on duty for almost twice as long as she should have been. The Hospital was desperate to settle and both sets of parents agreed on the condition that the hospital change its policy regarding hours for the staff so fewer accidents would happen.<p>

Kathryn was staring at the other couple, John was sure she hadn't taken her eyes off the little strawberry blonde child in the Latino woman's arms. My child. But Bay is my child too. Life likes to be complicated.

We get a nice settlement from the hospital not that Kat and I need it, but I think that Vasquez and Sorrento will benefit from this. He is a musician and she styles hair. Not that that is a bad thing but they don't make a ton of money. I know little Bay isn't really mine but I do want her to have a good life, even if I'm not going to be part of it.

It was decided that after the trial we should all get out birth child back. I might be fond little Bay but I want Daphne. I want my baby. It's going to be hard on Toby but I'm fairly certain that he will forget that we used to call the baby Bay. He is going to grow up with his little sister Daphne and that is that. It's not really our business how Bay is raised. Her parents seem like good people; I'm sure she'll be fine.

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><p><strong>Regina POV<strong>

Almost three years after that trial to get my daughter back and tragedy decides it has left me alone for long enough. Angelo and I have been on the outs lately but we came together the instant we realized there was something wrong with Bay.

Yes, we call her Bay. I will always think of that little strawberry blonde baby we had in our house for six months. I think she was the cause of more fights Angelo and I had in that time than we had ever had before. I might be an alcoholic but I never cheated on him. Ever.

Our baby was Bay and right now she was sick and we were scared. I think it was the worst moment of my life when the doctor came out and told us there was a two in three chance she would be deaf. Oh god, how could this happen to us? We almost lost her when she was born, who could something like this happen to her now?

I looked over at Angelo. He looked the way I felt: lost. Adrift in an unfamiliar sea. Oh god. What were we going to do?

When Bay failed the hearing test Angelo and I began to work through our issues. It was his idea for me to go to AA. I didn't want to but he said that he didn't want Child Protective Services take Bay away. She gave me the strength to put down the bottle. I would be strong for my daughter.

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><p><em>Author's note: When I saw the dream sequence in the show I thought it would make a good fanfic but I could only find one, so I decided to write one of my own. This is my first fanfic so please be nice. Also I have no Beta so all mistakes are mine. I also hope that if anyone has an idea for this story they will be kind enough to share. Please review; I will turn into a giggling squeeling school girl if you do. Please<em>


	2. Roads we could have traveled

**I do not own Switched at Birth. If I did I wouldn't be writing it here; you would be watching it on television.**

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><p>Daphne Kennish was six years old and having the time of her life. She had helped her mom make the best birthday cake ever. It had three layers (two chocolate layers with a strawberry one between them) and was perfectly moist. She was splashing in the water park with her friends from school. Daphne peeked through her bangs at Liam who was on the slide. He was really cute.<p>

She looked around when she heard her mom call to her. She was waving a new camera in the air above her head and beckoned Daphne closer. Daphne got out of the pool dripping water and walked over to her mom. Her mom was always snapping pictures she thought. On birthdays and holidays especially, but even on normal schooldays. She smiled wide showing teeth and put one hand on her hip, her fingers brushing the soft green material.

When the sun started to go down and all her presents had been put in the car Daphne found herself giving a huge yawn. Her dad noticed and picked her up in his arms. He walked to the car with a smile on his lips; she was so cute when she was sleepy. He could tell that Toby was tired too but he was trying hard not to show it, probably in an attempt to wheedle a few more hours before bedtime.

"Okay," Kathryn said. "One cup of hot chocolate and then _bed_."

John smiled at his wife; really sometimes she was just perfect. Once the mugs had been put away and the children were in bed he and Kathryn looked at each other.

"Did you take the film to the pharmacy to get it developed?" Kathryn's voice was low and calm and John could hear an undercurrent of emotion. Whether it was pain or curiosity he could not tell but thought it might be both. She was thinking of Bay. My _other_ daughter. That's how I think of her, because while I know that Daphne is my child my heart refuses to forget the little girl that was my daughter for over a year. I think Kathryn feels the same way.

Tomorrow I will send an envelope filled with pictures of Daphne to a P.O. Box and in two days I will receive an envelope filled with pictures of a little raven haired girl. This is the decision we came to; we didn't want to step on each other's toes after the trial so we just send pictures; never anything more. I haven't physically seen her in almost five years but I think of her almost as often as I think of Daphne. More than I should; it probably isn't healthy.

The pictures I will receive are markedly different than the one I will receive in a few days' time. Daphne is a bright, energetic, charismatic, and popular child. She is almost always surrounded by her friends. Bay looks shy in the photos and I only ever see her with her family. Her parents probably just believe that holidays and birthdays are meant to be spent with family. Or maybe they are afraid of losing her again.

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><p><strong>Regina<strong>

Bay is so sweet. Honestly, sometimes Angelo says she reminds him of a little kitten. I worry about her; she is so shy that it is painful to watch sometimes. She hates going to school so much; she has only been there a few months but she says the other girls pick on her and call her retarded. She begs me so hard not to make her go back that I often wonder if I am making the right choice. But then what other choice do I have? Angelo and I agreed that Bay needs to learn how to interact with people her own age and she won't do that if she doesn't go to school.

We have also talked about getting Bay a cochlear implant but I am hesitant to let anyone cut into my baby's skull. I have lost the blind faith I once had in doctors and hospitals.

Every so often I wonder if I made a mistake in not telling John and Kathryn about Bay being deaf. She is my child but for a short while she was their child too. But, the other part of my brain argues that we agreed five years ago not to get in each other's lives, we were only going to send pictures. If they could give Bay back her hearing I would jump at the chance to talk to them, but they can't. All they could do would be to offer advice I have already considered and maybe point a finger of blame at me. Not that I don't deserve it. I should have taken her in sooner but I was still wary of hospitals at the time. Foolish pride cost my daughter her hearing, I don't think she can even remember my voice.

Besides the voice in my head said, a little louder to try and drown out the guilt, it's not as if they could be any help; all they would do is stick their noses in where they didn't belong and give advice they weren't qualified to give. Thanks, but no thanks; I don't have time to deal with that right now. We didn't need their money and I don't want self righteous white people telling me what is best for my child.

I look out the window. There are no bars, because there is no reason for bars. We live in a nice middle class neighborhood where we are a large percentage of those with ethnic background. We actually fit in well enough (the women here love my salon and are charmed by Angelo); the only thing I don't like about it is the way people look at Bay. They look at her like she is a freak of nature or has some horrible contagious disease. Sometimes I just don't know what to do to help her.

My mother and I have a rocky but workable relationship; she and I argue a lot but find our common ground in Bay. I look at her now, her dark curls spilling over the pillow and her eyelids closed in sleep. I kiss her forehead and get up to go back to my room. It does npt matter that she cannot hear me; I have to say it anyway.

"Good night sweetheart, and happy birthday."

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><p><em>Okay so, I know my chapters are kind of short but thats just how I write. I would like to thank everyone who took the time to write a review (I squealed like a little kid) and I would like to ask that you do it again. Please? I'll be your best friend. Criticism is appreciated (just be nice about it please). Next chapter I plan to write from only Bay's perspective (and we may meet Emmett) but I might have some Daphne as well. Until next time your dedicated writer, Filledeneige. <em>


	3. Of Boys and Girls

**Disclaimer: Yes, I own Switched at Birth (nasty men with legal documents approach). No, actually I don't own it. At all. Really? This is actually an issue? Honestly!**

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><p><strong>Bay<strong>

I felt the tears spill over my eyes and knife down my cheeks. I didn't want to cry in front of them—normally I didn't, but today they had followed my when they saw my parents weren't at school to pick me up.

"Why?" I wanted to wail. Wasn't it enough that I had no friends? That I ate lunch alone every day? That I never got birthday invitations or Valentine's Day cards? Apparently not for these three.

I bit my lip as I felt a tear drop off my cheek—I hated that they could see the pain they were causing; I didn't want anyone to see me like this, let alone them. I hated being weak in front of them but last time I tried to fix a problem with my fist people looked at me worse than they ever had before.

Those two instances were blurring in my mind: the apple-cheeked little boy who thought just because I was deaf I didn't feel, and the three girls who thought that because I was deaf I was an easy target. They were all wrong, and I was going to prove it.

_"Stop it! Leave me_ _**alone**__!"_

At least that's what I thought I was saying, but judging from the laughter that burst from their lips told me that I had once again mangled my pronunciation. Again.

I looked at the blonde in the middle and saw her say,_ Listen to the deafie try to talk! She sounds like Frankenstein's monster!_

I felt like I had been punched in the chest; didn't they realize how hard it was for me to talk at all? I could feel my vocal cords move but I had no frame of reference for how I sounded.

I swept a lock of hair behind my ear and I felt the plastic of my hearing aide. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from crying out. I was not going to give them the satisfaction of seeing me come undone from their words. I would be strong like my mother and not let them see the pain they were causing. I focused my gaze on them and gave them my best "come at me" looks.

I knew it wasn't very convincing so I was surprised when they all looked shocked and a little startled. Then I saw what had caught their attention: a little boy with reddish hair and blue-green eyes. I didn't know this boy but my first thought was that he was really cute. My second thought was to wonder why he was helping me; no one at my school liked me very much. None of that mattered though because no one was looking at me anymore; they were all looking at the boy.

He had walked right up to my tormentors and was screaming and screaming. I swear I could almost hear his scream on my skin. When he stopped screaming he looked at the girls, they looked terrified. He spoke slowly, so slowly I had no problem keeping up with it.

_Don't you ever talk to her again._

Then he took my hand and took me away. It wasn't until then that I noticed something about him; he was wearing a hearing aide too.

He must have noticed my staring because he turned to look at me as we walked. He gave me a shy smile and jerked his head as if to say let's keep going.

He was a friend; I just knew he was going to be my friend.

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><p><strong>Emmett<strong>

Bay couldn't sign. That was really surprising; I had lived my life around deaf people and hadn't met one who couldn't sign. I took her to my house—to my mom because she would know what to do. I was confused that she was in a hearing school at all and mom would help change that.

But when I told my mom what had happened Bay looked at my hands like she had never seen anything like it before. (Which I guess she hadn't.) My mom had to write down her questions for Bay and Bay had to write down her responses too. It took a long time but Bay wrote down the name of a hair salon for my mom.

That's where Bay and I were sitting while our moms talked. Bay was really different than the others girls I knew; all her clothes were dark and a bit too nice to play in but she didn't let that stop her. She spent a lot of time spinning in salon chair in her mother's shop.

I always thought it was hard dealing with people who didn't sign but Bay was different; she was special. She wrote her questions if she wanted to know anything but spend a lot of time just playing around. She had out a little sketch book and was drawing on the floor. I dropped to knees beside her and was surprised when she scooped the notebook up in her arms pressing the picture to her chest. She looked embarrassed.

_What?_ I signed looking curious. I knew she didn't sign but I was hoping I would get my point across with my facial expressions.

She just shook her head, dark curls falling in her face as she did. _No_, I saw her mouth.

I gave her my best puppy-dog eyes and saw her resolve crack a little. Come on, I thought. I pouted a little bit putting my hands up in supplication.

She bit her lip but handed me the book. I recognized myself even as a little cartoon dressed up as a knight. In one hand cartoon Emmett had a sword and in the other he held the hand of a pretty little girl in a long dress. I felt embarrassed at how she saw me but really quite pleased; I was her knight in shining armor.

I looked into her eyes and saw to my surprise that she looked nervous. I thought about it for half a second and then grabbed her hand and smiled at her again. Her answering smile made her eyes glow with a life I hadn't seen before.

She truly was special.

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><p><strong>Daphne<strong>

Everyone said how much Daphne Kennish looked like her mother.

I wish, thought the aforementioned eight-year old. My mom is so much prettier than me, I'm so skinny and tall. I look like a stork!

Daphne huffed in irritation. Her mom noticed.

"You okay sweetie? I made some brownies when you were at school if you want one," she said correctly guessing what kind of mood her daughter was in.

Daphne nodded and went to get a glass of milk. Daphne was in deep thinking mode—or as deep as an eight-year old could get. Both she and her mom liked to cook and they both liked flowers and sleeping in on Saturdays and shopping for new things.

I guess we can't be too different, Daphne mused to herself.

"So," her mom said, "Is there a boy you want to talk about?"

Daphne blushed. "Well there is this one boy, Liam and he is just so…"

A lot of nothing was said that day and when Daphne went to bed that night she felt very good about herself and though she did not know it another little girl was going to bed with similar feelings.

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><p><em>Author's note: Please review and tell me how I did (if I sucked find a gentle way to break it to me). I started writing this chapter thinking it would be mostly BayDaphne inner monologues but it turned into something else. I promise that my next chapter will have more Daphne in it. As always any ideas or opinions are welcome and I check my PM box every day. PLEASE review; it makes writers happy people who want to write more when people review._


	4. Dreams and Memories

**Disclaimer: There is no way I own Switched at Birth. But I do own Harry Potter. (Lawyers glare at me.) Kidding. Geez. It's called humor people.**

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><p><strong>Daphne<strong>

Daphne Kennish had boy trouble, two of them in fact. On the one hand there was Liam who she had known for a very long time and who she had dated for a little while now. On the other hand there was Wilkey—her older brother's friend. She couldn't tell if he was flirting with her to be annoying or because he liked her.

She was sitting at the island eating a scone her mom had made and absent-mindedly reading the morning paper.

She realized she had read the same line in the newspaper at least four times now. She blinked when she heard her mom calling her name in an amused tone.

"Daphne! Earth to Daphne!"

"Sorry, what'd you say?"

Her mom smiled as she poured coffee into a mug. "How are the scones?" She said in the same light carefree tone as before.

"They're good, though I think I like your blueberry better."

Cooking was one of the things the two of them liked to share the most; they both had the same passion and creativity for it.

"Morning!"

Daphne heard the unmistakable sounds of her brother and father as they came into the kitchen behind her.

"Hey dad, did you hear Brad Murrow signed with the J-Hawks?"

"Really? How did they get him away from Syracuse?"

"Probably his jump shot," Toby said as he snatched Daphne's scone out of her hand and tossed it to his father.

"Whoa," both guys said together sharing a male bonding sound that Daphne didn't understand.

"Hey!" She said not really minding but it was still kind of rude. But Toby loved to get under his sister's skin and their parents thought their playful bickering was funny so no real effort had ever gone into trying to get them to stop.

"Alright you guys, hurry up." Her mom moved so she could kiss Toby as he walked out the door. "Have a good day."

Daphne grabbed her blue backpack from the seat next to her and went over to kiss her mom as well. "Bye honey, I love you."

"I love you too." The words that came out of her mouth were almost a reflex, but that didn't make them untrue.

"Hurry up, Daphne," she looked to see Toby getting in his car. She got in the passenger side.

"Hey after school I'm going shopping with mom so you don't have to give me a ride."

Daphne smiled as her brother turned the key in the ignition; despite boy problems she was sure that shopping with her mom was going to be fun.

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><p><strong>Bay<strong>

Eli's was a favorite of Bay's; she loved the orange-mango smoothies that were made there. She had even gone so far as to verbally ask for the recipe, but the ones she made at home were never as good. Emmett said it was because she was a terrible cook.

Bay went to Eli's almost every day after school with her mother and they would just talk.

It was one of the rare places that Bay didn't mind the stares. Bay normally only spoke aloud when she was around her parents or grandmother, but Regina usually accompanied her words by talking aloud, not for Bay's sake, but for other people in the conversation (Angelo and Adriana) who weren't as fluent signers as Bay or Regina.

**So what are you and Dad doing for your anniversary? **Bay asked when she put her smoothie down.

Regina smiled as she watched her daughter's hands move in speech.** "He's surprising me with tickets to the Ray Baretto tribute!"**

Bay raised an eyebrow and smirked. **Doesn't sound like much of a surprise.**

Regina gave a half shrug and smiled a little guiltily.**"He doesn't know I know. And you, Bay Paloma Vasquez, are not going to tell him."**

Bay made the sign of zipping her lips and held up her hands in surrender when she caught a glimpse of someone with strawberry blonde hair stop and look at their table.

Her eyes moved from Regina, who was still talking, to a teenage girl about the same age as her. She had just come from inside the cafe and she had a smoothie in her hand and had only just started it.

Bay could spot a rich girl from a mile away. Smug rich girls got on her nerves, despite the fact that she technically was a rich girl herself. This girl's hair and her clothes were impeccable; her grey sweater embossed with a **BH**, the initials of the prep school Buckner Hall in Mission Hills. She had a mid-thigh length plaid skirt on and sneakers that were probably enough to pay for some really nice paintbrushes. Her skin was clear of any blemishes and dusted with freckles over her nose.

However her face looked troubled and confused and she was staring right at Bay. Bay was used to people staring at her. She had been deaf since she was three, so long she didn't even remember what it was like to hear, and signing since she was eight. She had gotten looks from everything from curious to disgusted, like she was a leper or a freak.

It was just bad luck that she had become deaf. Her mother told her that she didn't trust hospitals as much as most people and had put off taking her to a doctor. As hard as she tried she couldn't blame her mother; she loved and trusted her. Besides if she hadn't become deaf, what were the odds of her meeting Emmett?

Most of the time Bay and her family just ignored the looks and the sneers from the people who like to criticize, but there was something in the girl's eyes and expression that made Bay look again.

She quickly became annoyed at the look. This girl had no right to judge Bay. She didn't even _know_ Bay.

The girl's blue eyes caught Bay's brown ones and she looked almost frightened. Bay wasn't certain if it was of Bay's deafness or of being caught, but the smile Bay held quickly fell. She felt her mother's eyes on her, but she kept staring at the girl. If the girl could stare, so could she.

Regina tapped her arm and her eyes moved briefly to her mom before seeing the motorcycle pulling into the parking lot. Regina knew who it was, and a slow grin spread over Bay's face.

She watched as Emmett's bike pulled up next to their table. She knew the girl was watching, too. He took off his helmet and ran his fingers through his hair. Regina waved to him as Bay stood up. She threw her bag over her shoulder and looked back at the strawberry blonde as she walked over to her best friend. Emmett glanced at her.

**What is it?** he asked. She looked back again before she started signing.

**That girl won't stop staring** she signed. She frowned and that sad feeling came back. Even though she always ignored the staring, it still got to her when she thought about it, and this girl was just bothering her.

Bay saw a flicker of anger go over Emmett's face and felt a swell go through her chest. Emmett was always going to look out for her, no matter how old they were. His look quickly faded into his James Dean smirk.

**Well let's give her something to stare at.**

She smiled; when he said that it meant he wanted her to kiss him and Bay was happy to oblige. He tilted his head up ever so slightly and she met his lips for a kiss.

For Bay it was over way too soon. Whenever Emmett kissed her it made her feel as if her skin was humming.

She looked over her shoulder from her mother, who was smiling widely, to the girl. She looked shocked and frozen in her spot.

_Never seen two deaf people kiss before, have you?_ Bay thought smugly. Bay smiled at her before turning to grab her helmet. She shoved it over her head and waved goodbye to her mother. She straddled the bike behind him and wrapped her arms around Emmett's middle. He slid his own helmet on before starting the bike and pulling from the curb.

She couldn't help but think of that girl, knowing it was only fear of the unknown that made her stare, but she couldn't help but hope she would never see that girl again.

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><p><strong>Daphne<strong>

Daphne knew perfectly well that it was rude to stare, but at the moment she wasn't to fussed with manners. Something about the dark haired girl pulled at her memory but try as she might she couldn't think of how. She didn't go to school with her so that couldn't be it.

Daphne was racking her brain for any connection when she realized that the girl was staring back. She looked angry. Daphne realized she had been staring too long to be polite but she couldn't seem to stop.

The girl had kissed a boy who rode up on a motorcycle and then got on the back of it with him.

Then the girl was gone and Daphne kicked herself mentally when she realized that the girl was deaf and upset that she was being stared at. No wonder she had reacted badly.

She walked over to the table where her mother was looking at the pair of sunglasses she had just bought. She started sipping on her smoothie again and tried to get the girl out of her head.

She wrinkled her nose in frustration when she couldn't. Something was pulling at her memory and it wouldn't stop. It wasn't the girl who she had only noticed after, but the voice she had heard coming from the table where she had been sitting. There had been another woman sitting there but in her haste to leave she hadn't seen her face.

She frowned. Bay, she realized. She had heard the name Bay… Paloma… Vasquez? Yes she was pretty sure that had been it.

How hard could it be to find a person named Bay Paloma Vasquez in Kansas City? And when she did she could apologize… and find out why the woman's voice was so familiar.

With this in mind she turned to her mother and mentioned a place they could go to look for bathing suits.

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><p><em>Author's note: As always criticism is appreciated and compliments welcome. I would like to thank everyone who sent a review and beg that any advice you can give be sent my way. It only takes two minutes and it make me really happy when I know some one likes what I'm doing and gives me advice to make it better. Just a side note, I do plan to continue this story and yes it is a Bemmett story. It's just not going to be the most important part of the story. Remember the story is about Bay and Daphne.<em>


	5. Confrontation and Information

**Disclaimer: No! I do not own Switched at Birth! Stop rubbing it in!**

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><p><strong>Daphne<strong>

You know the feeling you get when you first realize you like a boy? Your mouth goes all dry and it's difficult to swallow and your heart is going fifty miles an hour. That's how I felt staring at the screen I had pulled up on my laptop. Except for my heart; I was pretty sure it had stopped.

I was so confused. How had this happened? I had set out to apologize to a deaf and satisfy my own curiosity about a voice I remembered. I had found something else entirely.

Not finding Bay on Facebook I had tried to Google her. Her name had come up in an article about a trial. It had been hushed up and the facts muddied but it did say there were going to be two name changes. The thing that really got me was that my name was one of those to be changed.

I felt the air in my chest come out in little puffs that hurt in a way that is difficult to explain.

I had to tell Bay; she deserves to know this too.

I felt like a light bulb had gone on inside my brain; I would find a deaf school nearby and look for her there. Would she understand English if I spoke it?

I chewed my lip thinking hard. There had to be somewhere online to translate things into sign language.

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><p>Bay stood in front of me looking skeptical.<p>

"So," she said in a voice thick with sarcasm. "You just decided to track me down to do what exactly? Point out to me that I'm different. Is that what you were going for?"

"No!" I said, again.

"Look I wasn't staring at you the other day. I was staring at your mother. That is who you were with, right?" Bay nodded. "I remember her voice from somewhere and it's been driving me crazy to figure out where. I think I know now and there is something else I need to tell you, but not here. I need to get some papers to prove what I think do you want to come over to my house?"

"No," her arms are folded over her chest and her shakes her dark curls. "This sounds like a really bad idea but you can come over to my house."

She writes her address on a slip of paper and hands it to me still not trusting me completely. "What did you say your name was?"

I smile a little at this; I had learned enough ASL to get Bay to listen to me, but I had also learned my name. I had the strangest feeling of satisfaction spelling it out for her.

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><p><strong>Bay<strong>

Bay brushed her hair out of her eyes, careful not to get paint in her bangs.

She surveyed the canvas before her, it was full of angry colors and sharp angles: black and red slashing diagonally across the canvas. Normally she tended to take inspiration from the Neo-Impressionists' art, but today called for something more…violent. She had anger welled up deep inside and had gotten it all out in a burst of angry painting.

Emmett raised an eyebrow at her questioningly.** You done or do you want me to get a punching bag?**

Bay mock glared at him and rolled her eyes; it must have been amusing to see her loose her cool like that and unleash a range of feelings on a piece of paper.

She cleaned her brush and rinsed her hands in the sink. She dropped the brush in an old coffee can on her way to the couch where Emmett sat with his homework spread around him.

They had turned her basement into a place for them to hang out when they were eleven and it had changed only a little in the intervening years. It was still filled with Bay's art and Emmett's photos, and on the wall above their heads was the drawing Bay had done the day they had met.

She fell on the couch next to him as he started to sign. **So have you been thinking about what this Daphne person wants to show you?**

**Yeah, I still don't like her very much, but she did apologize for staring at me and she seemed to genuinely have something important to show me.**

Emmett shrugged; it was clear that he didn't like Daphne very much either. It had been his idea to call her "Nosy with a D".

She should be here soon Bay signed looking at a clock with paintbrushes for arms. It was a silly little thing her father had bought for her when she was younger. She loved it.

She and Emmett got up to wait in the living room for Daphne. Besides her studio the living room was Bay's favorite room in the house. Painted a burnt orange it was decorated with tons of knick-knacks her parents had accumulated over the years. She and Emmett sat on the deep blue couch to talk.

Bay smiled; people though Emmett didn't talk until they got to know him. Then they can't get him to shut up. Emmett loves talking. He loves stories and jokes and playing question games with me on the floor of his bedroom for hours. What some people don't realize is that one can talk without speaking. Emmett hasn't opened his mouth and made noise for almost eight years. Not since he met me.

I smile at him now thinking back to the day we met and how he rescued me, not just from the girls, but also the life I was living. I will always remember that.

A light flashed to tell me someone was ringing our door bell. A strawberry blonde someone. Here goes nothing.

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><p><em>Author's note: I'm sorry I haven't updated in a while but I have been insanely busy with the ACT and I have to share a laptop with my brother. UGH! Anyway I would like to thank the people who reviewed and I will beg that you it again. Please? No really though it makes writers happy people when he have reviews. If you have any advice or ideas do not hesitate to PM me.<em>


	6. Yes or No?

**Disclaimer: No, I don't own Switched at Birth. (Sticks tongue out at lawyers hovering in the distance.)**

**Bay**

My head feels floaty, like when you study and study for a test and then it's over and you almost don't know what to do with yourself. Yeah, that sums it up pretty well.

Daphne, Emmett, and I have been going over the documents for almost an hour now and I feel wrung out. One year, two months, three weeks, and four days. Kind of funny when you say it like that, but all it meant to me was that I had lived in another house—with other people—for four hundred fifty-one days and when they learned that I was not theirs I had been given back to my parents and forgotten about me.

These were my bitter thoughts as I sat on the couch in my living room. Emmett seemed to sense where I was letting my mind go and decided to give me a metaphorical kick in the pants.

**Your parents wanted you. Wanted you so much that they gave up the child they had in their arms because they thought you were special. They were right. **

Emmett smiled at me—not his smirk, but his wonderful toothy smile that always gave me butterflies in my tummy. Daphne had to ruin the moment.

"What's he saying?" I saw her ask from her perch on the loveseat. It felt weird having her sit there; my parents often sat in that chair to watch romantic movies together when they thought Emmett and I wouldn't notice.

"Nothing," I said with a frown. I reminded myself that she probably knew nothing about deaf culture except the words she had looked up to talk to me the other day. She was trying, I told myself sternly. This stupid switch at the hospital affected us both and she probably feels the same about my parents as I do hers.

"So," she said leaning forward as she said it, chewing her lip nervously, "what do you want to do about it?"

"**Do?"** I ask. **"What do you mean? They went to a lot of trouble to get us back; I don't think they want to switch us **_**again**_**!"**

Daphne frowns at my outburst. "I just meant that I—I kind of wanted to meet the people who raised me for the first year of my life. I thought you would agree."

I stopped breathing for a second. Did I want to meet them? These Knishes sounded only mildly interesting; sports and baking and carwashes seemed dull to me, but to each their own I guess.

"Think about it," Daphne was speaking again, breaking through my reverie. "A whole other life you didn't even know about. Don't you wonder what life would have been like if we hadn't been switched back?"

Okay I'll admit I was curious for about two tenths of a heartbeat and then I thought about what it would mean, truly mean.

I would have grown up feeling as if I was a black sheep, not quiet fitting in with the rest of my family. I would have grown up a rich girl in a gated community and—my heart stops once more at the thought—I would never have met Emmett. That scares me, it really does.

I turn to look at him now, my rescuer, my friend, my boyfriend, my knight in shining armor. My Emmett. What kind of person would I have been without him?

He has a funny look on his face; I don't even know how to describe it. It is a cross between scared and thoughtful.

**A whole different life. You probably wouldn't be deaf. Maybe you would have been the best artist at the fancy prep school. Maybe you would have had a totally different personality. You might have been a total bitch. I would have liked you no matter what.** He smiles at me now and it makes me feel better immediately.

"**I like to think that that part is somewhat fixed,"** but I say it with a smile so he knows I am feeling better.

Daphne's eyes flick back and forth between the two of us and despite the curiosity evident in them she doesn't ask what I mean.

"So? Do you want to meet them or not? I think Toby will want to meet you once I tell him about you."

Toby that was the brother I had for a while. It felt weird; I'd never had a brother (at least not one that I could remember anyway) and I wasn't sure how to feel about him. He played music though and Emmett did that too so I guess we would at least have something to talk about if the conversation got too boring. I almost laughed out loud. "Too boring?" Had I actually thought that? I was losing my mind wasn't I?

I'll admit it; I almost said no. No, I don't want to meet my almost parents. But something about having a brother—no matter for how short a time—made me change my mind.

I looked into Daphne's eager eyes and said one little word that might send me on a wild ride of 'could-have-been's.

"**Yes."**

Author's note: Hey there! Sorry I haven't updated in like—forever, but my mum said I couldn't until I took the ACT for school. I'm back now and I plan to get this story finished by the end of March (knocks on wood) so I'm really hoping everyone who has found this story will stick around. Also your reviews mean a lot to me even if they are three words long. Tell me what you liked and what you didn't and what you hope to see. And remember: You can always PM me.


	7. Meetings and Photos

**Disclaimer: I do not own Switched at Birth**

_This means point of view._

**This means ASL.**

"**This means ASL and spoken English at the same time."**

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><p><em>Toby<em>

Bay and I were staring rather awkwardly at one another, neither one of us was exactly sure what to say. I had been shocked when Daphne told me about the mix up at the hospital and even more surprised by the solution our parents had devised: pretending it hadn't happened at all. But what really bothered me about the whole thing was something else entirely; when Daphne told me the other girl's name I felt as if I had been dunked into a vat of ice-cold water. I remember my parents telling me once that I had confused my imaginary friend with my sister, an imaginary friend I had called Bay.

Did I even really remember her? I knew her name, but I wasn't sure how much I could even trust my fuzzy memory. And how did I even talk to her, she had told me that speaking louder didn't make me any easier to understand and Daph had taught me only three words in ASL before she rushed out of the garage saying she had just remembered something and she wanted to go get it.

Bay shifted uncomfortably, smiling in a very forced way when she caught me looking.

"So," she said looking around the garage, "you like to play guitar?"

"Yeah," I said grasping at anything to make this situation less awkward.

"My friend Emmett plays the drums." Bay's face lights up when she mentions her friend.

"Cool, my band has a drummer but he's kind of flakey."

We lapsed back into silence.

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><p><em>Bay<em>

Toby seemed nice enough, a little unsure of how to act but considering the situation that was to be expected. Dealing with deaf people for the first time was always awkward for hearing people, that compounded with our unorthodox history made the entire situation feel...weird. I mean I liked him I guess, but I didn't really know him.

The garage was filled with Toby's music gear and a whole host of sports paraphernalia. Never having been athletic myself I wondered how much time the Kenishes must play if they had so much stuff.

Daphne told me that she played basketball for her school's team but that she, Toby, and their Dad liked most sports and followed them with a passion I didn't understand.

I looked at Toby, he looked as if he wanted to say something but wasn't sure how. His head jerked around as the garage was filled with light as Daphne opened the door and came in holding a dark blue box.

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><p><em>Daphne<em>

Bay and Toby looked relieved when I rejoined them, as if I was some sort of buffer for them. I wondered how long their relief would last when I showed them what was in the box.

**Daphne.**

"Daphne, what did you find?"

I lurched forward, my eagerness making me clumsy. "Look at this!" I was excited and nervous at the same time. I dropped to the floor and opened the box that was stuffed full of photographs, but they weren't of me or Toby, they were photos of Bay.

I watched as her big brown eyes opened wide in surprise, her head jerked up and she looked at me for an explanation.

"Where did you get these?" She sounded angry as well as scared. She picked up one picture in particular and brandished it in front of her. "I remember this, it was my eighth birthday. How did you get this?"

"I found it in a box my mom keeps in her closet, I remember her looking at them a few years ago, I didn't think anything of it until I met you."

Bay looked like she had been clubbed over the head with something heavy. She turned back to the photos scattered around her, skimming her fingers over them lightly as if they might break apart with the lightest touch. Suddenly her head shot up and there was a wild look in her eyes.

"What?!" I said wondering what she had thought of that bothered her so much.

"My mom has this old guitar case in our garage, but she doesn't play guitar, she never played guitar. One day my friend Emmett and I were using it to hold up part of out sheet fort, and when my mom saw she grabbed it told us not to touch the case again."

I suddenly saw where she was going with this.

"You think your parents have photos of me?"

"I think they would exchange photographs, I mean how else would your parents end up with these?" She gestured around her at the scattered pictures that went back to when she was very small, only a toddler. They weren't taken from a distance, if anything they felt intimate, something that would have been missed, unless they had been given to my parents. Suddenly it seemed entirely plausible that Bay's parents would have my pictures.

I jumped to my feet, "Do you think you could find the guitar case?"

Bay looked surprised. "I think so; do you really want to see it?"

She actually had to ask? "Of course I want to see it! If they have my pictures then it means they cared about even though I wasn't really theirs."

Bay gave me an uncomfortable smile but nodded her head. "I can understand that," she said sadly looking at the photo she still held in her hand. Her expression went from thoughtful to concerned in about half a second.

"Toby, are you alright?"

Toby was staring at a picture of Bay from when she was quite little, maybe only two years old. And Toby looked liked he was frozen staring at it.

Bay leaned forward and shook his shoulder. "Toby!"

"I remember you." His voice was so calm and quiet but there was an undercurrent of another emotion there. "I remember you Bay. Mom and dad told me I made you up but I didn't did I?" His eyes filled with tears, and the next words were so soft I almost missed them. "I'm sorry I forgot you."

Bay was still for a moment, then she threw herself at him and pulled him in for a hug.

I was surprised; Toby wasn't really a hugging kind of person and Bay didn't seem that way either, but seeing them together I understood. They had almost been siblings, in fact they had been siblings, if only for a short time.

I realized I was crying as well, crying for the family that could have been. I dashed forward and embraced them both.

What a mess we were, the lot of us.

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><p><em>Bay<em>

Wow, I never realized what a mess our garage was. Two cars, twenty years of accumulated memorabilia, and four teenagers. How were we going to find one guitar case in all of this?

**Whose idea was this?** Emmett looked like he had been told he was going to be spending time in a hearing school when I had asked him to help me, Daphne, and Toby to find the guitar case that probably held Daphne's pictures.

**Mine. Emmett its important to both of us to know if my parents have pictures of Daphne. Stop being so rude, they're actually nice.**

Emmett just gave me a disbelieving look and went back to the shelf in front of him.

I just sighed. Emmett was still trying to protect me from the unkindness he knew the hearing world could come up with. But I knew that Daphne and I were going to be friends, good friends. Our lives had been twisted together when we were switched at birth and now that couldn't simply be undone; we were part of each other. Besides I actually did like her.

I pushed aside a stack of old magazines and became engulfed in a cloud of dust. Okay this is ridiculous, _where_ is that guitar case?

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><p><em>Daphne<em>

Shoved between the wall and a shelf filled with cookbooks was a slightly battered guitar case. We'd been looking for at least half an hour but now that I'd found it I was almost scared to open it. If when never opened it there would always be a chance it was filled with my pictures, but if we opened it and it didn't contain my photos then it would never have my photos.

What if we were wrong and Bay's parents didn't have pictures of me at all, what if they had given me up and never thought about me again? I didn't know why, but I so badly wanted them to miss me. Was that selfish? Probably, but this was an unusual situation, maybe I was allowed to be selfish.

"Daphne?"

My name snapped me out of my reverie and I turned to look at the others. Bay and Toby looked concerned, and Emmett looked like he thought there was something wrong with me; maybe there was.

"I found it." My voice was tight with nerves but I managed a smile as I pulled the case from where it had been hidden.

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><p><em>Bay <em>

We placed the case on the floor in my studio, and without having to say a word Daphne and I each reached for one of the clasps and opened the lid.

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><p><strong>Author's note: I am so sorry it has taken longer than a year for me to update. This chapter is for every single person who has given me encouragement over the last year, seriously you all have no idea how much just a few words mean to me. I have been battling some personal demons and have emerged victorious so you all can expect more to this story, and more to the second story I have written called Weeping Willow. As always I would love it if you would leave a response, even a few words can brighten someones day.<strong>


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